What Love Remains
by piratewench78
Summary: Deacon Claybourne has a lot of time to think about what brought him here, to this jail cell, waiting to see if Rayna lives or dies.
1. Chapter 1

**Deacon's in jail and he's got nothing but time. And that leads to a lot of looking back on everything that led to this point. This is about the period of time between the accident and when Deacon met Rayna at the crash site – kind of a fill-in-the-blanks between what we saw on screen and what might have played out in Deacon's mind. Hope you like it.**

**Special thanks to KarenES for beta reading portions of this and offering encouragement.**

_**Time won't fly, it's like I'm paralyzed by it / I'd like to be my old self again, but I'm still trying to find it / After plaid shirt days and nights when you made me your own / Now you mail back my things and I walk home alone.**_**  
**

Deacon Claybourne couldn't remember exactly how he hurt his hand. Oh, he knew it happened in the aftermath of the car crash, but he didn't remember the exact details of how he had cut it so severely. He wasn't a stranger to memory lapses, although it had been over thirteen years since he'd had one. That one, or at least one of those during that time period, had been why he was now lying here in a jail cell, with the searing pain in his left hand, the cuts and bruises everywhere else, and the hole in his heart. He had felt the dread before, hung over, not remembering what he'd done or where he'd been or who he'd been with. This time he remembered those things, just not the specific detail of how he'd hurt his hand exactly.

He remembered that he had been drunk, had been drunk for several days, after Rayna had confirmed that he was Maddie's father, something she had neglected to tell him for all of Maddie's life. He knew the reason he'd never suspected he was Maddie's father was because of a time he couldn't remember. He did remember Rayna chasing him out of The Bluebird, pushing him out of the driver's seat, arguing with him, until she was so distracted that she nearly ran into another vehicle and his truck had rolled, over and over, until they were upside down in a ditch. He remembered pulling her out and laying on the side of the road with her. He remembered that his hand hurt like hell, she was unconscious, and he was terrified. He remembered that in that moment, when he was scared she would die in his arms on the side of the road, he had understood that this was why she had not told him about Maddie. And he remembered that at that same moment, he forgave her and prayed to God to save her.

When the police got there, he told them it was his truck. Nobody specifically asked him if he was driving, but he let them think he was. He had made the decision to take responsibility for this. If Rayna was going to die, he may as well die too, so it would be his fault. In the few minutes it took for the police to get there, he had looked at Rayna, laying still across his left arm. He had reached for her with his right hand, gently stroking her quiet face. He had cried and told her how much he loved her, how he had always loved her, would always love her, that he was sorry, for this and for so much else. She was a part of him, as much as the air he breathed every day. She was in his heart, his soul, they were connected so deeply, he couldn't lose her. He complied with the Breathalyzer request, knowing he would blow above the legal limit and that he would be arrested. He let the police handcuff him and put him in the police car, and he watched as the EMTs moved Rayna to a gurney and then to an ambulance. And he leaned back against the seat of the police car, tears streaming down his face, as they sped off to the jail.

* * *

Doctors in a jail don't care much about what happens to injured inmates. It wasn't like being in a real hospital with doctors who tried to do their best. He'd been in a jail before after being hurt in a bar fight and that doctor gave him Oxycontin. Deacon guessed that maybe he didn't know he was giving drugs to an alcoholic, but that was when he started doing pills. But this time, all they did was wrap his hand and give him a sling, without even really checking to see what the damage was.

When he found out later that Teddy Conrad was using his influence as mayor with the district attorney's office, it occurred to him that Teddy had told the doctors not to bother with him. His hand hurt like hell, but he rationalized that he deserved it. Because he'd been drunk, because he'd argued with Rayna, it had been his fault that they had crashed. So he could suffer some pain for that.

He leaned back against the concrete wall that first night and closed his eyes against the tears that welled up. In all the years that he and Rayna were together, he had never caused her physical hurt. They had fought and he'd called her names and he'd thrown guitars and dishes and broken furniture, but he had never physically hurt her. And now he had. And he had no idea what was happening with her because no one would tell him. The guards knew he was the one that had nearly killed the Queen of Country Music and they weren't inclined to be charitable.

Scarlett had come by and he told the guard he didn't want to see her. He just wanted to die himself. If Rayna didn't make it, he didn't know what he'd do. He felt empty inside. All his anger at her had vanished. She had been right to keep him from Maddie. _Maddie_. She was a sweet, beautiful girl. She didn't deserve all this. She didn't deserve him as a father.

He closed his eyes tight and felt a pain in his heart. He remembered the very first time he'd seen Maddie. He had stopped by to see Watty and Rayna was there, with her new baby. He remembered that it had felt awkward, seeing her. He'd known, of course, that she'd gotten married to Teddy Conrad and that they'd had a baby. But actually seeing her, looking happy and relaxed, had been like a fist to his gut. When he'd asked to take a look at her daughter, he remembered now that she had seemed tense, uncertain. He had looked at the baby and told Rayna she was pretty and she seemed relieved at that. He hadn't known that he was looking at his daughter. Had never even suspected.

Rayna had hired him back as her band leader, so when she went out on her first tour after Maddie was born, the little girl went with them. Deacon remembered that she was always quiet, watching everyone intently. She was walking by then and one day, while they were waiting to start rehearsal, Maddie had walked up to him and placed her little hands on his knees, looking up at him hopefully. He had looked over at Rayna and she had nodded encouragingly, so he picked Maddie up and put her on his lap. She had looked up at him and smiled shyly, reaching her tiny hand towards his face. She had stolen his heart that day.

Teddy rarely came to Rayna's concerts, but when he did he always brought Maddie. Deacon remembered the look Teddy would sometimes give him, like he was superior to him. Now he realized that it was probably Teddy feeling smug that he was raising Deacon's daughter as his own, right under his nose.

As Maddie grew up, anytime she was around, she was always fascinated by his guitars. She loved to stroke them gently and she would nearly burst anytime Deacon would let her hold one. She told him once that she was going to learn to play and then write and sing songs, just like her mama. He whispered to her to just be sure not to let her mama try to teach her the guitar, that if she really wanted to learn to play, to let him teach her. She had winked at him and whispered that she would do that.

He had been so impressed with her talent that afternoon Rayna had let her and Daphne do sound check in New York. He had told her later that she was better than half the session musicians he'd played with and he was telling the truth. She was amazing, all the more so because she was so young. For a brief moment, he felt proud of her, even though he'd really had little to do with it. He liked to think that somehow he'd passed his love of the guitar to her, but he thought it was probably more coincidence than genetics.

And then he remembered that afternoon she had showed up unexpectedly on his front porch and said the words that had changed his life forever. _I think you might be my father._ But he knew he couldn't be a father. He couldn't be anyone's father. He might be Maddie's biological father, but he knew all he would ever be was a disappointment to her. And if Rayna died as a result of the accident, then he would also just be the man who killed her mother.

* * *

The cruelest joke that gets played on a drunk is when they get to the point where they have blackouts. Often they don't remember the things they want to and remember the things they don't. Like not remembering the night Maddie was conceived, but remembering every single thing that happened after Maddie's visit.

* * *

When Maddie had showed up that afternoon, he had been getting ready for the CMA's that night. He and Rayna were finally going to go public with their relationship. They had been together for several months, with some ups and downs along the way, but she was finally ready, she said, for them to do this. He felt like a teenager, getting ready. Although he had been her bandleader for nearly twenty-five years, it had been a long time since they had been a couple. It felt right. When he had been at her house for dinner with the girls, he had been overwhelmed with the feeling that this was what he had been waiting for for so long. They would be a family. Only he hadn't known that night how close to the truth that was.

_I think you might be my father._ He hadn't known quite what to say to that. He remembered feeling like the wind had been knocked out of him. It took him a couple of minutes to register again the distraught face of the young girl standing in front of him. He finally noticed that a cab was at the curb and he waved it on, almost absentmindedly, while thoughts crashed around in his head. How could he be Maddie's father? Rayna had broken up with him more than a year before Maddie was born. She'd been with Teddy. He had felt a knot build in his stomach as he remembered that in the months even before Rayna had dumped him, through to the day he went to rehab for the fifth time, there were huge blocks of time that were missing. Lord only knew what had happened during those lost periods.

He had let Maddie come in and she sat down on his couch, tears running down her face. He had walked around at first, trying to compose himself. Finally he sat in a chair and looked at her and gently asked her to tell him why she thought he was her father. She had handed him a piece of paper. He had held it at first, without looking at it, rubbing his hand over his face, taking deep breaths. _Could Rayna have lied to me? Would she have lied to me? Why would she have lied to me?_ When he finally looked at the document that Maddie had handed him, he saw that it was a paternity test result. The words were swimming before his eyes and he had to put the paper down on the coffee table.

Maddie haltingly recounted how she had snooped in her mother's closet and found a storage box. She had gone through it and found recording contracts and report cards for her and Daphne and birth certificates and other documents. And then down at the very bottom had been that piece of paper. Maddie told him that it said Teddy wasn't her father, that she knew her mom and Deacon had dated right before her parents got married, and so did that mean he was her father?

He had looked at her then and found himself craving a drink. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt that way. He struggled to find his voice and then told her that he didn't know, he didn't think so, but he didn't know. He'd have to ask her mother. He tried to be comforting, but he felt like he'd been beaten up himself and he was having a hard time focusing on her distress.

He had managed to gather his composure enough to call her a cab and send her home. Then he paced, trying to figure out what to do. He knew he was supposed to pick up Rayna, but he couldn't. He wasn't ready to face her. He didn't know what he was going to say to her. _It can't be true. There's no way this is true._

He finally got in his truck but he couldn't make himself turn the key. His head was pounding, his chest hurt. He was supposed to be on stage with Rayna and Brad Paisley and he wasn't sure he could do it. He finally started the truck and he found himself headed for a bar nearby. He sat outside, rubbing his face, breathing deeply, talking to himself in his head to convince himself not to go in. He was still struggling, but he forced himself to drive away and head for Bridgestone Arena.

When he got there, he parked in the lot for performers. People spoke to him as he walked by but they barely registered. He walked up to the backstage area where Rayna and Brad were waiting. Rayna had asked him why he hadn't picked her up and he brushed her off. Brad had picked at him for being late and he laughed, but it hardly made an impression. He got through the song and managed to avoid Rayna immediately afterwards.

When he did confront her and she confirmed that he was, in fact, Maddie's father, he had felt angry. But more than that, he had felt hurt and humiliated. The woman he had loved for almost twenty-five years, the woman he had trusted and that he believed was his best friend, the woman who had encouraged him through these thirteen years of sobriety, had done the worst thing she could have ever done to him. She had lied to him. _Every single moment of the last thirteen years._ When he left her in her dressing room, he wasn't sure he could ever face her again. Not only because he was angry but because he was embarrassed. He didn't know what to do with that. And so he had driven back to the bar he had stopped at before the show and this time had not hesitated to go in.

Surprisingly it had taken him fifteen minutes after the bartender put the glass of whiskey in front of him to finally down it. He considered the fact that he'd been sober thirteen years. He had grown accustomed to it, comfortable with it. He had felt a sense of pride in himself that he'd been able to do it finally, when he hadn't been able to do it before. But he had done it for Rayna. And she had betrayed him in the worst way imaginable. He had picked up the glass and battled with himself in his head for a moment, then thought _Screw it_, and threw it back in one swallow.

It burned at first, but then it felt smooth and warm going down. It had been thirteen years, but it had felt like he'd never stopped. He kept drinking, hoping to erase the memory, but the next morning when the bartender kicked his foot as he lay passed out in a booth, he unfortunately remembered every single painful second of what had happened the night before. So he stopped at a liquor store on the way home and bought more, drinking half a bottle in the parking lot before he finally headed for home.

When he thought back on it now, it was embarrassing to remember. It would have been better if he could have blacked out. But he remembered it all. The exchange with Gunnar at his front door, the fear on Scarlett's face, attacking Teddy and later Coleman. The call from Juliette and then seeing Rayna at The Bluebird. But maybe it was good to remember. It made him realize what he had done and why he had ended up here.

* * *

He was mostly alone. He was okay with that. Except that it gave him too much time to think. When he thought about the level of anger he'd had at Rayna, it took him back to his childhood. To where this all started. He didn't like to think about it and most of the time he pretended it had never happened. He'd never even told Rayna about his childhood. He hadn't wanted to blame his problems on anyone else. But he had grown up with a father who was as mean a drunk as there had ever been. Deacon knew that he was a lot like him. He had seen his father wreck the house, scream at anyone that crossed his path. He was vicious with his words and quick to use his hand.

Deacon remembered too many times when he and his sister had cowered in a bedroom while their father beat their mother. He would shake with fear and cry. Beth would hug him close and wipe his tears away, all the while crying herself. As she got older, she would try to protect their mother and often ended up on the wrong side of their father's hand herself. The constant refrain he heard all his life was that he would end up just like his dad. He hadn't wanted to believe that was true, but here he was. He was a drunk. He hurt people he loved.

He thought about one night in particular. His father came home late after a long night out drinking. He came home and began yelling for no particular reason. When his father started hitting his mother, Deacon heard Beth storm out of her room, screaming at him to leave her mother alone. Deacon heard the screaming escalating and then heard his sister call their father a jackass. He jumped up from his bed and opened his bedroom door just in time to see his father backhand Beth across the room. She slammed into the kitchen table and sat there, stunned, for a moment. Deacon started for her but that was when his father walked over to Beth, jerked her up by the arm, and practically carried her to the front door. He threw her out the door, telling her she was no longer welcome in their house, to get the hell gone, that he never wanted to see her around there again.

Deacon was too stunned for a moment to move, but when he finally ran out of the front door after his sister, she was gone. He called for her frantically, but he couldn't find her. He sat outside most of the night, hoping she'd come back, waiting until his father had passed out so he could go back in the house. Beth was just two weeks shy of turning sixteen.

One of the biggest regrets of his life had been that he hadn't been able to protect his sister. That she had been all alone with no one to help her. He didn't see or hear from her again until after he had been in Nashville a while, after he'd found out his father had died. After he'd had his own last run in with their father.

He thought about Beth now. She had ended up in Atlanta, made a living waiting tables. She met her husband, an Army sergeant from Mississippi, and had Scarlett. When his tour of duty was up, they'd moved to Mississippi to be near his family. He stayed in the Army Reserves and was killed early in the Iraq war. She still had a hard life, but leaving home had been the best thing she'd done.

He felt bad that he hadn't seen her much since she'd left home, but she always said she was working, too busy. Or more often, it was Scarlett that told him that. And it was easy to let it be, because he knew their shared memories were so painful.

Deacon's own escape from that life happened when he was seventeen. Unfortunately he did not escape the legacy his father left. He thought about the day he left. He'd walked up to the house and could hear his father yelling at his mom. He couldn't tell exactly what he was saying, but it didn't matter. It was all vile, he knew from experience. As he walked through the door, he heard his mother's quivering protests, and just as he walked in the kitchen, he saw his father viciously backhand his mother and she slammed into the kitchen counter.

Something inside Deacon finally snapped. He ran towards his father and, taking him by surprise, slammed him up against the wall. He had no idea where the strength came from, but he pummeled Jed Claybourne, his mother crying for him to stop. Finally Jed slid to the floor, his face bloodied, his eyes closed. Deacon stood over him, breathing heavily, then felt his mother pull him back.

He stood there, staring at the crumpled heap on the floor. He wasn't sure if he'd killed him or merely hurt him. Then came Jed's low, growling voice. _If you don't get the hell out of here, bud, I'm going to fucking kill you._ Deacon's eyes widened and he felt rooted in place. _Get the hell out of here, you piece of chicken shit, and don't you ever come back._

Deacon turned and walked to his room, picked up his guitar, and walked out. His mother grabbed at his arm but he shook her off, got in his truck, and started driving. He had no plan in mind, but he didn't stop until he got to Nashville.


	2. Chapter 2

_Boy, you're gonna grow up to be just like your old man. Count on it. Blood is blood and it's in your blood._

Deacon couldn't count all the times he'd heard that, or some variation of it, from Jed Claybourne. Always followed by laughter, but never the hearty, humorous kind, just some kind of ugly, mean-spirited laugh. He couldn't remember all the times that Jed came home drunk, or that he sat on the porch and drank rot gut whiskey until he passed out. Or all the times he'd hit his mother, not caring if he did it in front of Beth and Deacon.

Jed started trying to get Deacon to take a drink when he was ten. Deacon was too afraid and would back away, shaking his head, as Jed laughed unkindly at his stupid, scaredy-cat son. Then he'd promise Deacon that one day he'd be exactly where Jed was. But Jed always wore it as a point of pride, as a badge of honor. He could drink anyone under the table and he would prove it often. He was a mean drunk, though, and if he wasn't taking out his demons on his wife, he took it out on anyone that happened to be in his orbit. He spent countless days in jail, after getting into bar fights. More times than Deacon could count, his mother had to pick Jed up at the emergency room, where he'd ended up unconscious after a massive drinking binge.

Deacon had promised himself he'd never be his father. But he had often wondered if Jed was right, that blood was blood and that he had no choice in the matter. He had tasted his first whiskey not long before the confrontation that led to him leaving home. Jed had been drinking on the porch, taunting Deacon with a glass of whiskey, daring him to try it, laughing meanly when Deacon refused. After he had passed out, though, Deacon saw that there was still whiskey in the glass. He picked it up, fighting with himself whether to taste it or not. He figured, _what the hell, try it so I know I hate it and that will be the end of it._

The first sip burned going down. He choked on the bitterness and the rawness of the taste. It burned all the way down his throat. But when it got to his stomach, it turned into an oddly comforting warmth that startled him. He took a deep breath and took another, longer sip. This time the burn felt different, felt good, and he hated himself in that moment for liking it. He drained the glass, feeling the slight buzz in his head. And he liked that too. He stood for a moment, looking down at his passed out father, staring at the empty glass in his hand. He felt a rage come over him, anger at himself for being weak, anger at his dad for being right. This was supposed to be the only drink he ever took, the one that would let him laugh in his father's face and tell him _I'm not you, I'll never be you_. But he knew right then and there that it wouldn't be his last drink. _Blood was blood._

* * *

When he came to Nashville, he literally had nothing but the clothes he was wearing and a guitar. He found places that would let him play and he made enough in tips to buy a little food and a bottle of cheap whiskey at a place that didn't check ID's, plus a change of clothes. After he played at one of what felt like a thousand dive bars around Nashville, he'd get drunk, and then sleep it off in his truck. He'd stop by a truck stop every morning and wash out the clothes he'd worn the day before and take a shower.

It was late spring in Nashville and thankfully warm. He hoped he'd have enough money by winter to get a cheap room to rent somewhere. He wrote songs and showed up for open mic nights all over town. He started to get a bit of a following and made a little more money. He found a job busing tables at a bar-b-que joint during lunch and that gave him a steadier stream of income.

Finally, one night in early August, he got picked up for open mic night at The Bluebird Café. He knew magic could happen there, but he tried not to be hopeful. He played there whenever he got a chance and people seemed to like him. He got offered a part-time kitchen job, which gave him enough money to rent a room in East Nashville, and allowed him the opportunity to play more often.

It was a chilly night in mid-November. The open mic lineup wasn't full and he got to play an extra-long set. When he was done a tall, slender man just starting to go gray walked up to him and told him he had a lot of promise and that he'd like to work with him. He said his name was Watty White.

Deacon knew who Watty was. He was one of the legendary producers in Nashville and worked with some of the top talent in town. Watty liked his songs and wanted to get him a publishing deal. Deacon wanted to sing his own stuff and make it as a performer, but Watty thought his songwriting was what would get him noticed in this business. Deacon didn't want to just be a songwriter for other people, but he didn't want to mess up this opportunity either.

He spent the next couple years writing songs with various co-writers, playing around town, and continuing to write his own songs. Watty helped him get better gigs even though he saw Deacon more as a songwriter and side man.

Then came the day when Watty wanted him to meet a female singer he was very high on. He thought Deacon could play guitar for her, because she wasn't very good, and write songs with her because she had some decent lyrics that needed more polish. Deacon was not interested and told Watty so in no uncertain terms, but Watty said it wasn't a request.

So he met Watty at The Bluebird for open mic night. As soon as a young red-gold haired goddess walked out to sing, Deacon was entranced. Her voice was clean and pure with a hint of sexiness to it. He found himself jotting down random thoughts on a napkin, lyrics that seemed to write themselves. He felt butterflies in his stomach watching her. She was tall and slender, with legs that wouldn't quit, and had a beautiful smile. He could tell she was young but she had a grown-up grace about her.

When she was done, Watty suggested they talk to her and Deacon was stunned. She was the singer he'd wanted Deacon to meet. He put the napkin with the lyrics he'd written in his pocket. He felt tongue-tied as Watty introduced him to Rayna Wyatt. Up close, Deacon could see just how young she was. But he already had a bit of a crush on her. He had known right then and there that she was the one who would ruin him for every other woman he ever met. He knew he'd met the woman that his soul wanted to be with.

* * *

He tried sleeping, but he couldn't. His life was a mess. He was a drunk, no better than his father had been, and, in fact, exactly what his father had predicted. He hadn't wanted to be and Lord knows he'd tried to beat this thing. He was surprised Rayna had stayed with him as long as she had. Most women like her wouldn't. But then he thought about his own mother, living the life she had. She had put up with Jed Claybourne for nearly twenty-five years, lived with the abuse, the fear, the pain for all those years. Because she'd loved him. Deacon remembered asking her, after his father died, why she had stayed all that time, why she had put up with that. He remembered the sad smile she gave him as she squeezed his hand. _I loved him, Deke. I always loved him. And he needed me. Even when he thought he didn't, he needed me._

Deacon hadn't understood that at the time, even though it was already playing out in his own life. But he didn't see it as being the same. He didn't hurt Rayna that way, not the way his father had hurt his mother. But now he realized that Rayna had done the same thing his mother had done. She had always been there to take care of him. She'd spent ungodly sums of money on rehab for him. Even when she should have given up, she still stood by him. Until she stopped. Until she finally gave up, once and for all, and went off and married Teddy. And then passed their daughter off as Teddy's for all those years because she couldn't trust him to do the right thing. He wondered if she'd ever thought about telling him, as the years went by. He had worked hard to stay sober, for Rayna. _Did she ever reconsider?_

In the end, it didn't matter, because she didn't. As far as he could tell, she never once thought it was time to tell him. He did wonder if she ever trusted his sobriety, even after thirteen years. Or did it just become a habit to think of Maddie as Teddy's?

* * *

It didn't happen all at once, this becoming a drunk. At first, it wasn't always every night, and he didn't always end up hung over the next day. But as time went on, he drank more and more, and eventually he was at a point where he didn't know how to stop. It wasn't until he started showing up late for rehearsal or a gig, not being able to remember the songs, and drinking until he passed out that Rayna started ragging on him about it. At first, she didn't seem to mind the drinking. She would drink too, although she was a lightweight. It didn't take but a couple drinks for her to get buzzed. She'd take Deacon home, holding him up and laughing her silly drunk laugh all the way, and they would fall into bed and he would reach up under her skirt and jerk her panties off, as she giggled her approval. He would pull off his own jeans and boxers and push into her, thrusting over and over as she moaned and then matched his rhythm, until they were both spent.

There were lots of nights when they sat at a bar after a gig, drinking and kissing each other. If they were sitting in a booth, he would push her in first and then slide over to press against her, running his hand up her bare leg, sliding his fingers into her panties and then in and out of her. She would lean in to kiss him so that no one could hear her moans of pleasure when he made her come. That became their own private game, for him to bring her to orgasm in a crowded bar, and then she would let him pull her back into a restroom and she would bend over a sink, letting him take her from behind. It was hot, it was a little dangerous, it was a lot sexy.

Eventually though, he would get too drunk to play their games and he would pass out, sometimes when they got home, but often in a bar booth or in a bathroom stall. She would get angry and pout and argue with him and he would argue back and then he would try to back off. He'd be successful for a little while and then it would start again.

He hated to admit it to himself, but it was when they met Vince that things truly went downhill. Vince had come to Nashville to be a star, just like they all did. He had a good voice and he played a mean guitar, but he liked drinking more than he liked a steady gig. He played around town whenever he was together enough to play. Deacon and Rayna met him at The Five Spot and became instant friends. The three of them would go out, usually with whoever Vince was dating at the time. Rayna played the role of the relatively sober designated driver, to make sure they didn't get in too much trouble and didn't wind up in jail.

That was the point when, he realized later, he truly got to where he seemed to have no control over his drinking. He didn't know how to stop, so when he did it was either because of Rayna or because he ended up passed out, in jail, or in the emergency room. Vince couldn't stop and he sure couldn't stop Deacon and the two of them started down a very dark path. Rayna tried to help him by sending him to rehab once, twice, three times. But he couldn't stay sober.

And then Vince died. After a night of heavy drinking, Vince left to drive home and Deacon stayed at the bar. Vince was killed in an accident and Deacon couldn't forgive himself. At that point, he was truly fulfilling his father's prophecy. _Blood is blood._ He was nearly as mean a drunk as his father was and he certainly was drunk as often as his father had been. The blackouts started after Vince died. In the beginning, Deacon had been scared at what he couldn't remember. But not for long. And it quickly went from forgetting things he'd done drunk to losing his memory of things he'd done sober. It took two more attempts at rehab before he could finally figure out how to get off the rollercoaster. By then, Rayna was gone, but he pushed on, determined to prove to her that he could beat this.

* * *

The days went slowly by. Scarlett kept coming by and Deacon kept refusing to see her. He kept hoping she'd stop coming, although if he was honest with himself, he knew she would not. She was stubborn that way, just like her mama. Just like him. He hated that Scarlett had to deal with him. He didn't really want to face her after what he'd done. He remembered how scared she was that day that Gunnar had stopped by and had seen him drunk on his porch. He knew he was out of control and, even though he hated her seeing that side of him, he couldn't help himself. She had never seen him drunk, at least not the way he was those last few years after Vince died. He knew she would have questions and he just didn't have answers for her. At least not answers he wanted to give her.

Nobody else came to see him. Not that he expected it, but it pointed out to him just how much pain he had caused, that the only person who showed up was his niece. Not even Coleman. He screwed up a lot of times, but Coleman at least had been there, to give him some tough love and push him. But even Coleman had abandoned him this time. Almost killing the great Rayna Jaymes showed him that he was indeed just a member of her sideshow. He felt cold inside, like someone had shut off the pilot light of his life. Without her he truly was nothing.

The guards would tell him now what they knew about Rayna. That she was still in a coma, that her fans were building memorials to her, that no one seemed to know whether she would live or die. But they weren't keeping him up to date as a favor; it was more as a warning. _She has a lot of fans in here,_ is what they said, as if to warn him that if she died, he could expect punishment. He didn't care. That was fine with him. Because if she died, no punishment they could inflict on him would be as bad as what he would inflict on himself.

* * *

It turned out that even as young and inexperienced as she was, Rayna wasn't always easy to work with. Even at sixteen she was very clear about what she wanted and how she wanted her career to play out. She was willing to work with Deacon, but she was going to call the shots. That led to lots of fights, with her calling him impossible and him calling her bossy. He still thought she was the prettiest girl he'd ever seen, but they were so often at odds with each other that he wasn't sure he wanted to get to know her better.

She was a Belle Meade girl; he'd been in Nashville long enough to know that meant she was privileged. He wondered why she was doing this, trying to break into country music. He wondered if it was like a hobby to her or something she was playing at, before she went on to some fancy college and married some Belle Meade guy. But she surprised him. She'd dreamed of this for as long as she could remember, she'd told him. She hated living in her father's house, being forced to go to Sunday lunch at the country club and be on display with her sister when he entertained. Still, he had to wonder why she'd want to give all that up for a life on the road, with no guarantee of success.

The day Watty brought her her first paying gig, she had been so excited that she'd hugged Deacon and boldly kissed him on the lips before dancing off. All the feelings he'd had for her when he'd first met her came flooding back. She looked so happy and her smile lit up the room. Her laughter was like sunshine. They huddled together working up the playlist and made multiple changes before she finally was satisfied.

It all came to a crushing end when her father found out and told her that she could not do it. Because she was still in high school, she still lived at home. Lamar Wyatt told her, _If you live in my house, you live by my rules._ She pleaded with him over and over to change his mind, but he told her that if she defied him, she was no longer welcome in his home. So after they had done the gig and Lamar made good on his word, kicking her out of the house, Deacon was the person she called.

He had picked her up and his heart broke, seeing her look so destroyed. It reminded him of when his father had kicked his sister out of the house. He was glad he could be there for Rayna. He took her to his apartment and made her a cup of tea, which she hardly touched as she cried in his arms. He had rubbed her back and lightly kissed the top of her head, all the while conscious of how soft she felt, how nice she smelled, and how perfectly she fit tucked into his side.

Eventually the sobs quieted and he thought she'd fallen asleep. He had whispered her name and she looked up at him. He was a little surprised at the need he saw in her eyes. She had never given him any indication that she had any interest in him as anything more than her guitar player and songwriting partner. She reached her hand up and cupped his cheek, then slid her hand behind his neck and pulled him towards her. He leaned down and kissed her, sliding his arms around her waist and back.

When he finally took her to his bed, he was a little surprised to find that she had never been with anyone before. But she told him it was okay and that she had wanted him since the day she'd met him. He was gentle with her that night and then held her close as they drifted off to sleep. When he woke up the next morning, with her naked body snuggled next to his, he felt like he had finally found a home.

* * *

Deacon thought back to that next morning. He remembered that when Rayna woke up, that she was frantic she might be pregnant. _I'm only sixteen!_ She would do a pregnancy test almost every day, even though it was too early to tell. She wouldn't let Deacon near her until she finally knew she wasn't pregnant and got a prescription for birth control pills.

Deacon bit his lip. He could remember thousands of times that he and Rayna had made love after that, but he still couldn't remember the time that ended up with Maddie. He had racked his brain trying to think back to when that would have been, but there were still too many holes - days and weeks he couldn't account for.

He assumed it had been easy, then, to make the decisions she made before Maddie was born. If she knew he didn't remember, she could be secure in the knowledge that he would never question it.

He felt a tear slide down his face and he swiped it away angrily. He wished he could remember. One more reason he wasn't fit to be a father to Maddie. How could he be her father when he didn't even remember making her? Rayna was right to cut him out. He was a drunk, a mess, a liability.

He hoped he'd get an opportunity to tell her he understood now. He hoped she wouldn't hate him. He couldn't imagine life without her.

* * *

The first time he met Lamar Wyatt was not long after Rayna's first paying gig. He wondered who the older gentleman in the dark business suit who looked completely out of place at The Bluebird could possibly be. He had walked right up to Deacon, working behind the bar, and asked if he was Deacon Claybourne. Deacon had nodded and the man had proceeded to tell him he was Lamar Wyatt and that if he, Deacon, knew what was best for him, he would convince Lamar's daughter Rayna to give up this ridiculous notion that she could be a country music singer. Because he wasn't having any of it. And because he would not bankroll her career folly.

Deacon had felt a white hot rage at the man who had so cavalierly dismissed Rayna's hopes and dreams. He wanted to punch him in the face, but instead he told him that no, he would not convince Rayna to give up her dreams. Because she was damn good and she was going to be a star. Lamar had laughed in his face and told him that if he didn't see his way clear to talk some sense into his daughter, then he could consider that he had just made himself a very powerful enemy. Deacon had waved him off. _Get out of here, old man._

He was surprised when Lamar told him that he knew Deacon was a drinker. That he'd seen him drunk. That he'd looked into Deacon's past and found him lacking. He told Deacon he was trash and not good enough for his daughter, even if she was foolish enough to throw it all away on a pipe dream.

Lamar had never let him forget that and held true to his promise. Deacon was certain that Lamar Wyatt would never forgive him for the accident, regardless of the ultimate outcome. He wasn't really sure he gave a shit.

* * *

Teddy Conrad was using his influence as mayor. If Deacon hadn't been so dead set on paying the price for what had happened to Rayna, he might have laughed at the irony of it all. His bail was set at a million dollars, which made no sense just based on the charges. But Teddy had always hated Deacon and Deacon knew it. Now that Deacon knew about Maddie, he knew Teddy was trying to establish his position with her. And with Rayna, although their marriage had long been over. He wanted to be pissed at Teddy, but right now he just wanted to feel the pain of what he had done to the only woman he'd ever loved.

The judge wouldn't let him enter a plea, made him see a public defender. And so he had met with Margie or Marie or Melanie or something like that. He told her that he didn't need or want a lawyer, but she seemed like she was a stubborn one. He didn't care. If Rayna died, he wasn't about to let any lawyer get him off or, worse yet, find out the truth.

He finally saw Scarlett, hoping he could make her leave him alone. Now he was back in his cell and he felt a pit in his stomach after he had told her to not bother with him. He'd been cruel in what he said to her, he knew that, and he'd seen the pain and hurt in her eyes. He loved that girl so much. She'd had a tough life, with her father dying when she was so young, and Beth struggling to make ends meet, working all the time. Scarlett was a sweet, gentle girl, fragile almost. Deacon had always felt so protective of her and when she'd come to Nashville, he had tried to keep her from being hurt. But he'd been so caught up in his drama with Rayna that he hadn't watched over her as closely as he'd promised Beth he would. It had made him sick to his stomach to say the things he'd said to her that day. He felt tears trickle down his face. He needed to tell her he was sorry, that she'd done nothing wrong, but right now he couldn't. His own pain was too great.

Rayna had been in a coma for two weeks. On one hand, Deacon was relieved. She was still alive. He was relieved for Maddie's sake, for Rayna's sake, and yes, for his too. But only because that meant she was still in the world. And there was still hope. On the other hand, though, it worried him. He didn't know a lot about comas, but he was worried that the longer she was in one, the less of a chance there was she'd come out of it. Even though he was ready to take the responsibility for the outcome, the thought of her dying left him cold.

Then the lawyer – Megan was her name – came back. Even though he'd told her to leave it alone, she couldn't do it. She'd had to look into things. She badgered him over what had happened on the side of the road when the police showed up after the crash. Yes, he'd let them think he was the driver. That was the point. It was because he'd been drinking that this happened at all. For some reason that he could not understand, she seemed to want to actually defend him. He knew she was getting closer to what really happened that night and it was seriously pissing him off. He tried to blow her off but then she'd knocked him on his backside. _I found a hospital report that references diagonal bruising across Ms. Jaymes's abdomen. Two inches wide from upper left to bottom right. She was the one behind the wheel._

Son of a fucking bitch. He wasn't going to let her do this. He reminded her again that he'd been drinking, that he was responsible. He had no intention of letting her get him off just because Rayna had been driving that night. _Did your reckless actions contribute to a terrible tragedy? Probably. Did you commit a crime? No._ He couldn't think of anything to say. It was really a good thing she wasn't getting paid for this, because he sure as hell wouldn't pay her to get him off. He didn't want Rayna to die. For all kinds of reasons, none of which were that it would clear his sorry ass.


	3. Chapter 3

**_The secrets I have kept / The nights I haven't slept / I've laughed until I've wept / Tryin' to love you_**

When he thought about his life with Rayna, he tried not to dwell on the bad times. The times he was drunk, the times he disappointed her, the times she sent him to rehab – sometimes with encouragement and later with anger and hurt. Towards the end of their relationship he'd started having blackouts and there were huge holes where he couldn't remember what he'd done or who he'd been with or what he'd said. He didn't remember a lot of the good times either. A night of heavy drinking could erase whatever happened when he was sober. Coleman had told him that he'd wrecked Rayna's apartment before he'd gone to rehab that last time, but he didn't remember. He'd woken up in jail and didn't know why. The only thing that mattered to him was that he hadn't hurt Rayna.

He still couldn't believe Rayna had ever been interested in him in the first place. He was a poor country boy with a bad past. She was a pampered princess from Belle Meade. Although she didn't come across that way, she still had that upbringing, all manners and privilege and wealth. The complete opposite of him. What they shared was the music. It was always what had bound them together. Out of the music had come their love for each other.

She was always the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Her reddish-blonde hair, those long legs, her gorgeous body. He loved to see her smile, listen to her laugh. She had a surprisingly bawdy sense of humor, but she was also incredibly caring and nurturing. For someone from her background, she was incredibly down to earth. She could also be so naïve about some things, yet wicked smart about others. He loved hearing her stand up for herself with record executives, hold her own with radio personalities, and be warm and engaging with her fans. He was always so proud of her. Proud to be _with_ her.

It had started for him, of course, the moment he saw her. She said it had for her too, although he was never sure he quite believed that. But he did know that when they did come together as a couple, it was big and it was explosive. And it never stopped being that way. Maybe it was because they were both just passionate people anyway, but they both fought and loved with nothing held back.

They had started writing songs together, songs that always seemed to have double meanings, that, in the months before they became a couple, were always on the edge of being full on love songs to each other. Eventually their songs _were_ love songs, the way that they spoke to each other on stage. As he thought back over all the songs they'd written, so many of them told their history, the good with the bad. "The End of the Day" had been something he'd written before going into rehab the second time, his promise that things would be different, asking her not to give up on him. "No One Will Ever Love You" was probably the most personal song they'd ever written, from a time when all they had was each other. Even after Rayna married Teddy, they still wrote together. And though the words were less obvious in their meaning, the feelings were always there.

Music was one of the ways they spoke to each other. It was rare for either one to write all the words; it was always a collaboration. He thought what they came up with together was better than what they wrote separately, but Rayna always loved the songs that he wrote. She convinced him to record his own album and had badgered Watty into producing it. But he had never liked the spotlight and didn't like the interviews and radio shows that were required to promote an album, and so it quickly faded into oblivion.

The other way they communicated was in the bedroom. No, that wasn't entirely correct. It didn't take much for him to get turned on by her and vice versa. So their lovemaking could happen anywhere, and often did. He loved when she whispered in his ear to join her in the bathroom or in an empty closet, or the backseat of a car. He loved touching her when they were in public, in secretive ways that would make her smile or gasp or even moan a little. But as much as he loved the physical aspect of sex with Rayna, what he loved most was the feeling of being safe and being loved. She was so much better at that than he was.

In the years before Rayna hit it big, they were almost always on the road. Watty fronted them the money for a bus and had it outfitted with bunks for the band and a small enclosed bunk for Rayna. Travelling that way certainly brought the whole band closer together, both in proximity as well as in friendship. So although the other members of the band couldn't help but notice, no one mentioned Deacon sneaking into Rayna's small room when he thought the rest of the group were asleep.

What he remembered most about those days were the pillows. Rayna had lots and lots of pillows. Mainly so they could muffle their voices and their moans during the night. He was pretty sure they weren't fooling anyone, but it made them feel better.

They played in hundreds of honky tonks and dive bars across the country. Sometimes the crowds were small, sometimes they would have a packed house. It wasn't unusual for the crowds to get rowdy and, since Rayna was beautiful and had a sexy look, there were lots of catcalls and men getting grabby. There were plenty of nights that Deacon would go after someone, or multiple someones, for trying to grab Rayna's ass or for yelling at her to show them her tits. But other than that, the life they had was perfect for them. They wrote songs by day, played a show and often two most every night, and then made love as the bus headed from one town to the next. The rare breaks they had in Nashville were treasured times, where they could relax and be together.

Those were some of the best days of his life. When it was all about the music and about each other. Before the drinking started to get in the way. Before life got so complicated for them. He remembered Bucky coming to the apartment early one morning. Deacon was beyond annoyed that Bucky had shown up so early. He'd been Rayna's manager for several years and had done a great job getting her better and better gigs. He seemed oblivious to the fact that Deacon looked like he had just rolled out of bed, which in fact he had, at Bucky's insistent knocking. Deacon had glared at him when he insisted he needed to see Rayna. She had come out of the bedroom pulling her robe tight around her, her hair messy and her eyes half closed. But they had snapped wide open, as had Deacon's, when he told them she would be opening for George Strait in forty arena shows. The three of them opened a bottle of whiskey and drank shots to celebrate. After Bucky left, Rayna had walked back over and straddled Deacon's lap, making love to him right there at the kitchen table.

* * *

He loved writing songs with her. When he'd first met her, he was surprised at how good her lyrics were. Her melodies were not very sophisticated or nuanced, and that was what Watty thought Deacon could help her with. He'd lost count of how many hit songs they'd written, how many number ones. The songs they wrote when they were still together were always so personal, about good times and about struggles. After Rayna married Teddy, Deacon wondered if they'd ever write together again. He wasn't sure what they would write about. He kept writing, mostly songs about her, about missing her, or hating her, or struggling to move on without her. Then one day, when they were on the first tour after Maddie was born, she had come and asked him to write with her.

Everything about it was different. They sat on the bus, next to each other, and talked out the lyrics, with Deacon working on melodies. That much was the same as before. But the lyrics in those days were not as personal, they were about pain and struggle and freedom and joy, but not written for each other. And there were no stolen kisses or touches and certainly no racing back to Rayna's room for sex. Deacon didn't like what they were writing then and Rayna didn't seem happy with it either. It took them a while to develop a new rhythm. Eventually things clicked again with respect to the joining of the words and the music, if not the joining of them.

After Daphne was born, things seemed to change. Deacon would push a little harder with a phrase or two that had a double meaning. Rayna would consider it and then smile shyly and add it. They found a place where they could write about their feelings without it being as obvious as it had in the beginning. When they found that balance, her records sold better, she had more number ones, and she won more awards.

A lot of songs were permanently off the playlist, once Rayna married Teddy. But then there was that night at The Bluebird, when she actually showed up to hear him play. She knew he played every third Thursday and he occasionally would ask her to come, but she never did. He knew it brought back memories. Hell, it did for him too. But that night she came. He saw her standing next to Erika and suddenly he felt a cloud lift from over him. He'd actually felt joy. He knew, when she left, she'd go home to Teddy, but she'd come to hear him play. Finally. And so, he put her on the spot and he asked her to come up and sing with him.

When she sat down, he leaned in and told her he wanted to do "No One Will Ever Love You." It was their most popular song and, since she was there, it seemed only right that they should sing that. She gave him a look that said it probably wasn't wise, but then she nodded and they sang that song they hadn't sung in well over a decade. When they caught each other's eyes, it was so obvious that the feelings between them had not died. Deacon knew his hadn't, but he wasn't always sure about hers. But he saw in her eyes that night that she still loved him, that she had always loved him. And when they finished, although she smiled, her eyes said it was a mistake. Without even thinking, he'd grabbed her hand. He could feel her resist for a moment, but he held fast.

She'd gotten in his truck with him after the show, not saying a word. He realized that he'd put her in a terrible position and that he'd been selfish about it. But he loved her. He would never not love her. He needed her to know that, no matter what happened after. _I wish we hadn't done that song._ When he'd asked her what they were going to do next, she'd been silent for a long moment, struggling with her emotions. Then she got out of the truck and left.

* * *

Deacon felt his breath hitch as he thought about the good times. He had screwed that up. It was when Rayna finally got her own tour that his drinking started to get out of control. And not long before he went to rehab that first time.

He couldn't believe she'd sent him to rehab five times. Five times! As embarrassing as that was for him – the number of times, the public perception that he couldn't stay sober – it was worse for her. Tandy and Lamar certainly didn't support her and he was sure she got an earful from Bucky as well. But the whispers in the music community were the worst. That he was a liability, that she was a fool to keep him around and waste her money on him, that he was destroying her. Until that last time, when she sent Coleman to take him to rehab, he had always thought she supported him. He knew she'd put her career on the line for him. He felt tears track down his face. His life had been a mess and she was the only one that had helped him even half way hold it together. Long after she should have. And now look what he'd done to her.

* * *

It turned out that Rayna's big break was that opening act gig for George Strait. It was nice to finally get to stay in hotels instead of on the bus, although admittedly the hotels were barely a step above a Motel 6. But not having to share the space with the rest of the band felt good. Being an opening act meant decent money, but certainly a long way from the headliner stratosphere. Still, it got Rayna recognized and helped sell her "Like An Angel" album. In between shows, she did the interview circuit on country music stations across the country. Most times Deacon went with her, but there were times when he was so hung over he couldn't get out of bed. Even then, he remembered her slightly disapproving look before she'd head off, and he would vow not to let it happen again. But it did.

They started a ritual back then, one that continued until the day Rayna fired him the last time. They had walked out on the stage at the United Center in Chicago for that first show with George. They were both overwhelmed by the size of the arena and the fact that, when the lights were on, you couldn't even see the seats. They had no idea what it looked like on the stage from way up in the far reaches of the arena. It had been Deacon's idea to go up there to see what it was like. So during George's sound check, they did just that. Rayna had been shocked by how far away the stage seemed. Deacon had commented that you could barely make out that George was even George, other than from the big screens. They decided that day that they would always go sit in the cheap seats before a show, just to remind themselves of the people who had paid to see them, but were so far away they had to rely on the jumbotrons for the experience. Usually the ritual ended with them making out. Once in a while it went a little further than that, when they were sure they wouldn't be caught. After she married Teddy, they would just talk, but those were always special, intimate moments for the two of them.

He had never really been interested in going out on his own, although Rayna suggested it more than once. She thought he was good enough, but he liked being with her. He was okay with the fact that she was the star; he knew that in every other way they were equals and partners. He didn't need the spotlight. That would mean going out without her and he just wasn't interested. After she had married Teddy and she'd hired him back, he had more time on his hands when they weren't touring. Instead of spending all his time with her, he had time to work on his music and so he wrote. A lot. Most of what he wrote was about her, some of it about lost love, some of it was full of pain and anger. None of it was music she would record, so he started hitting the clubs and honky tonks around Nashville again. He had a standing gig every third Thursday at The Bluebird, but he played somewhere most nights he was off the road. Occasionally it made him think about going out on his own, but he had never been able to sever the ties he and Rayna had, even though she was married and raising a family. And truthfully, she had never been able to let him go either.

The guard came to take him to the infirmary and the doctor gave a cursory check of his hand. It was still stiff and painful, but Deacon didn't mention it, even when the doctor asked. He was pretty sure that he would never be able to play the guitar again and he was okay with that. If he ended up in prison for ten to thirty years – what Megan said the sentence was for involuntary manslaughter – he wouldn't need to worry about it anyway. When he got back to his cell, he carefully removed the sling and, holding his wrist and hand carefully, he laid down on the bunk and closed his eyes. The bad part about being locked away was that he had nothing but time on his hands. And with time came memories, most of them painful.

* * *

It didn't happen all at once. The drinking. The pills. But once it started, he went downhill fast. Things got worse when he met Vince, but he didn't blame Vince. He was just the catalyst. Vince liked to drink, but Vince was usually just a boisterous drunk and then he'd pass out. He never caused trouble, never got in a fight, and until the night he died, usually was too wasted to get near a car to drive.

By the time Deacon was twenty-three his drinking was out of control. Although she had tried, Rayna couldn't handle him when he was at his worst. So she got him to agree to rehab. He'd felt really bad about the fact that she'd had to do that. He was embarrassed that she'd had to. So he'd promised her that he would stay sober. But he couldn't. Which started the cycle he found himself in for the next seven years, until he finally figured out how to make it stick.

* * *

When he got out of rehab that last time, Coleman was waiting for him. Even though he hadn't heard a word from Rayna the whole time he was there, he was disappointed she wasn't there. He had been at Riverside for six months. After the initial detox period, he spent a lot of time learning how to deal with his addictions and strategies for coping on the outside. It was different from the times he'd gone before. He'd done the thirty day programs and had relapsed quickly. The fourth time Rayna sent him to rehab, it was a three month program, but he'd left after three weeks. He'd been pissed at Rayna for sending him, as though she were shuttling him off so she could date that damn Teddy Conrad. This time Cole had told him he had no choice; he had to stay the full six months. He had resented being sent to such a long term program, as though he were a hard core alcoholic and drug addict, but as time went on he realized that, in fact, that was exactly what he was. The fact that this was his fifth try was the primary signal that he was not your average run-of-the-mill drunk. The program he went through was tough, but he actually felt, when he got out, that he finally could lick this.

When he was in the car with Cole, headed back to Nashville, he had asked about Rayna. Cole told him then that Rayna had married Teddy Conrad, that she was pregnant and due to give birth any day. Deacon fumed at the news and, for a moment, wondered if it had all been worth it to get sober, again, only to find out that Rayna was lost to him. He was hurt that she had obviously not believed in him enough to wait for him, that she had rushed into marriage with Teddy. Based on the date of her wedding, he was able to figure out that she was pregnant when she married Teddy. Even though Rayna had broken up with him long before she started dating Teddy, he somehow felt a little like she had cheated on him. She had never indicated that she was interested in having children when they were together and so he felt a little like he'd been punched in the gut to realize that she had allowed herself to get pregnant by Teddy. Except, of course, he hadn't known that she wasn't pregnant by Teddy at all.

Cole wouldn't let Deacon live on his own when he first got back to Nashville and so he moved into the guest cottage behind Cole and Audrey's house. Rayna had kept up the payments on the East Nashville bungalow and Cole told him that she had transferred the deed to him, so that when he was ready, he would have a place to live. He knew he was being stupid, since she was married and starting a family, but he saw that as a sign that she hadn't given up on him completely. Her being married and getting ready to be a mama might make things more complicated, but he knew in his gut that she still cared about him. That the bond they had couldn't really be broken after all.

* * *

Those thirteen years between the time he'd gotten out of rehab the last time and the night of the CMA's when he fell off the wagon were a rollercoaster of emotions and experiences. Staying sober was hard. In the beginning he counted his time in minutes and hours. It was only when he made it a year that he began counting it in days. It still took several years before he didn't think about taking a drink every single day. It was a long time before it became a habit to ask for a club soda or a tonic water. It was a very long time before he could spend time in a bar or at a party with someone else and not crave a glass of whiskey. And even then it was still like his shadow, always with him, something he always had to consciously pay attention to.

It turned out that staying sober was a lot easier than getting his career back on track. He played open mic nights around town and songwriter nights on occasion. Bucky threw him some bones with bands he knew that needed an extra guitar player. He badgered studio managers for any kind of session work. People were skeptical in the beginning. He had a great reputation as a lead guitarist but a shitty reputation for dependability. He even spent time in Muscle Shoals, far enough away that he could get work, but too far from Nashville for his taste.

He was back in Nashville for a recording session with Brooks and Dunn when Watty called him. That was the day he stopped by and Rayna was there with Maddie. It was the first time he'd seen her in over a year. She still looked beautiful to him, but he could see that she looked more relaxed. He'd felt his stomach clench at seeing her, looking so young and pretty and happy. He knew the minute he laid eyes on her that he still loved her. That had not changed, probably would never change. Then he saw the stroller with the baby in it. Rayna's eyes had looked guarded when she saw him and the happy smile that had been on her face while she talked to Watty had faded just a bit. Deacon had turned to leave but Watty waved him in. He had walked hesitantly towards Rayna and looked down at the little girl. She was sleeping, but he could see that she was a pretty thing, with her dark hair and her little yellow dress.

He forgot about Maddie though when Watty told him that Rayna was the one who had wanted to see him. His heart soared for a moment until she told him that the reason she wanted to see him was to invite him back to her band. She would start touring again in a couple months and needed a lead guitar player, if he was willing. They would need to start rehearsals soon. He had hesitated because he was afraid he wouldn't be able to work with her again. That his feelings would get in the way. But she seemed to really want him back and he really needed a steady gig, so he said yes.

* * *

The guards hassled him again. It was a little over two weeks since the accident and Rayna was still in a coma. He still got a lot of veiled threats as to what might happen if she didn't pull through. There was a time when he would have turned on a guard and tried to beat him up. It was no different than all the times drunk customers at a bar or a venue would try to feel up Rayna after a show. Or even the time the guys in the audience at The Bluebird gave him crap about not being as good without Rayna. He would always try to protect her. But this time he knew he had failed her. So he waited.


	4. Chapter 4

Being back in Rayna's band was hard at first. She had had a long conversation with him about boundaries. He always thought that the boundaries were for her as much as for him. He would catch her sometimes looking at him. When he caught her gaze, she would blush and turn away. He liked the fact that he got to stand behind her because that allowed him the chance to look at her and remember everything about her, how soft her skin was, how sweet she smelled, how her breath felt on him, how her skin felt touching his. Of course, that would lead him to need a way to release the tension and, since he couldn't drink it away, he used other women to ease the pain. Never anyone that wanted anything beyond a quick roll in the hay and he was lucky that there was always some woman who would oblige him.

He knew it bugged Rayna. She didn't say a lot about it, but he knew it bothered her. He could see her out of the corner of his eye when he would leave with yet another young girl, his arm draped possessively around her shoulder. Rayna's eyes would have a sadness to them and he would see her pain. But when he looked her full on, it would be gone and she would smile and wave. She was always good at putting on her performance face when she needed to.

It bugged him too, that she went home to Teddy. Occasionally Teddy would meet her somewhere on the tour and when that happened, the tension was always ratcheted up. Whenever Deacon was around, Teddy's arm would be a little tighter around Rayna's waist, he would lean in to her and kiss her or playfully nibble at her earlobe. And his eyes would always be on Deacon, seeming to dare him to say or do anything about it. And when Rayna turned away, he would smirk at Deacon. So Deacon started to sex it up onstage with Rayna a little more whenever Teddy was there. She would always look a little surprised, but would quickly respond in kind, smiling at him, letting him know with her eyes that the spark was still there. When she turned away, Deacon would look towards Teddy on the side stage and give him a look that let him know he knew exactly what he was doing. Teddy would fume and Deacon would smile to himself. It was like a game between the two and all it ended up doing was making them hate each other more and causing distress for Rayna as she tried to manage it.

Over time, however, Deacon acknowledged that she was loyal to Teddy, regardless of whether he made her happy or not. She was committed to Teddy and her marriage and her girls and that was something that Deacon always respected about her. She was loyal. Hell, she was loyal to _him_ as well, bringing him back to her band and keeping him as a friend. Together they learned how to maneuver the landscape of friendship without anything more. Not always an easy proposition, with their history, but because of that history, they knew how to support each other and respect each other.

He never stopped loving her though. He stayed sober for her, to prove to her that he could do it, and he wanted her to know he was doing it for her. He always hoped there would be a chance for them, even after she got pregnant with Daphne. That had knocked the wind out of him when he found out. Until then, he could convince himself that she and Teddy had a shell of a marriage and that she was only in it out of loyalty, but Daphne proved that wrong.

He'd been as close as he'd ever been to taking a drink after she admitted to him that she was pregnant. He remembered how she'd been sick off and on and couldn't seem to shake it. Because she was so familiar to him and he noticed _everything_, he had noticed that her breasts had gotten bigger. And he'd noticed the soft roundness to her belly. Nothing most people would have noticed, but he did. When he'd asked her how she was feeling, she had burst into tears and told him she was pregnant. He couldn't decide if she was happy about it or not, but he knew, as much as she loved Maddie, it wasn't the baby she was unhappy about. He convinced himself that it was the fact that it tied her more to Teddy that made her unhappy, but she would never confirm that. She used the excuse that it made the tour more complicated.

She postponed the rest of her tour when she got to her seventh month. She was exhausted and felt like she was waddling around the stage. Deacon wanted to tell her that she'd never looked more beautiful, that other than her tummy you would never know she was pregnant, and that she still was kicking ass, but he didn't. He couldn't. So since they weren't touring, they wrote. On a miserably hot day in mid-July they met at Percy Warner Park and hammered out "Changing Ground" in about an hour. He remembered that she was in a very cranky mood and had complained about the heat, about how heavy she felt, about how miserable she was, and how ready she was for the baby to get out. He tried not to laugh at her too much because she would frown and smack his arm every time he did. Luckily for everyone, Daphne was born the next day.

She went back to work sooner than she had after Maddie was born. Daphne was barely three months old when she got the band together to start rehearsing for the rescheduled end of the tour. Deacon thought she looked tired, but when she was on stage, she looked alive again. Their relationship began a subtle change then. They talked more, they met more often at a little bend in the river that was their place for private conversations. She looked him in the eye more often and, when she did, it was with a warmth that she seemed less bothered by. In many ways, they were back to where they'd been before she married Teddy. Minus the sex, of course.

He didn't know what had changed, but he didn't really want to dissect it much. He liked this feeling of being comfortable again with Rayna. He especially liked that he was doing it sober. It sharpened the edges and made everything extra clear, as though a film had been wiped off. She was his best friend. Slowly, he got more okay with the idea that they might just stay friends. They knew so much about each other, though, that they always seemed to be teetering on the edge of something more. One thing he had learned this time around from his sobriety was patience. He was certain that Rayna didn't love Teddy the way she'd loved him. He was certain she still loved him the way she always had. He just needed to be patient.

The other thing that changed after Daphne was born was that they started arguing again. When they had been together, their passions had led them into shouting matches and fights that always ended up with them in bed, making up. These days they didn't end up in bed, unfortunately, but the fighting seemed to solidify the relationship again. They had finally seemed to come almost full circle from where they'd been when Rayna had kicked him out all those years ago. The passion was back. Rayna and Deacon were back. Almost.

* * *

She asked him to perform with her at a campaign event for Teddy, when Teddy had run for mayor of Nashville. Actually, that wasn't true. Bucky asked him. After the night at The Bluebird and the decision to do the smaller, more intimate tour, she had seemed skittish around him. The scab had been pulled off the wound that was them pretending they didn't still love each other. He knew she was struggling with where to put that. At first, when Bucky told him what the gig was for, he wasn't sure he wanted to do it. He was voting for Coleman and it seemed disrespectful, not to mention that he despised Teddy Conrad. Rayna was going through that phase where she would not look him in the eye, seemed to hold him at arm's length, and picked fights with him. But he decided to do it anyway, because he felt like she needed him.

It turned out to be pretty much a disaster. It was all the things he hated – politics, the country club, Teddy, and Lamar. Plus he was late getting there, which prompted Lamar to be his usual jackass self, at least when it came to him. He felt ridiculously out of place there. Even Rayna, in her pretty gold dress, looked like it was where she belonged, even though he knew how much she despised it too. He was on edge already and first Lamar, then Teddy, picked at him, and he fought back. He really had meant to just do his job and get the hell out of there, but it became kind of a squaring off between him and Teddy.

Teddy was all dressed up and acting like his typical pinhead self. It was times like these that Deacon would feel like he didn't quite measure up to Teddy. He wasn't as smart as Teddy, he didn't have all the connections that Teddy had, he didn't have the presence that Teddy had. All he had was an ability to write and play music and he could make the great Rayna Jaymes look pretty damn good on stage. He let Teddy's nastiness get under his skin and then he played up the onstage chemistry between himself and Rayna. Hell, he overdid it, truth be told. Rayna kept looking at him and he could see the anger building.

He tried to play dumb afterwards but she was having none of it. _I can't believe you put us in this position._ He had challenged her about which us she meant. But he knew. He had exposed the undercurrent in their relationship, not only to Teddy, but to everyone in that room. He had put Rayna in an awkward position, just to throw it in Teddy's face. He walked out mad, leaving her in tears, but after he got in his truck and gunned it out of Belle Meade, he knew he'd made a big mistake. He had never meant to do that to her, never meant to force her hand like that. She had fired him the next day. She had actually called him and done it herself, instead of letting Bucky do it. She had wanted him to know just how much he had cost her and the damage he had done.

It wasn't the first time she had fired him. But it was the time that hurt the most.

* * *

He kissed her in the elevator in Chicago. He hadn't really meant to and she clearly wasn't expecting it. After she'd fired him in the wake of the debacle at Teddy's campaign event, he had felt as low as he could feel. He really did feel like he'd lost her then. That he had done something that finally pushed her to the point where he would never have a chance with her again. He had worn his heart on his sleeve in front of Teddy and it put her in a bad place. He hadn't really meant to do that either, but he couldn't help himself where Rayna was concerned.

He had joined the Revel Kings, just to get out of Rayna's orbit. Although they had patched things up by then, he knew that as long as she was married to Teddy Conrad, professionally they were through. And he needed to get out of town and try something new. It ended disastrously, when Sy assaulted Scarlett, and then Sy had painted a very negative portrait of him, suggesting Deacon had fallen off the wagon. When Rayna came to check on him, just like in the old days when she felt she had to save him, he'd blown up at her. He really hadn't needed her to worry about him anymore. When he was at his low point, Juliette Barnes had approached him again about joining her band. This time, though, she hadn't pushed, hadn't used sex as an enticement. So he said yes. He didn't know if she really understood that he did it for Rayna. He wanted to be close to her and he didn't know another way to do it. She was still pushing him away. But he needed to be near her.

Rayna knew how to get under his skin. He was trying to keep his distance – her request – but she just pushed and pushed. When she had asked him for what seemed like the hundredth time why he was on the tour – and didn't she really know the answer to that? – he decided to show her. And so he kissed her in that elevator. And she kissed him back. And then she texted him to come upstairs and he thought they were back. But when he went to her room, there was Teddy, standing outside her door.

He'd thought she was sending him a message then, that she was ready. But it seemed not. Apparently _talk_ meant just that – talk. He'd thought at the time it was to remind him she was still married and that she couldn't break that commitment. Then when she didn't tell him she was getting a divorce – he'd had to find out via the tabloids, damn it! – he got the message loud and clear. There wasn't going to be a Rayna and Deacon again. She was moving on, but doing it without him. At least romantically. It was clear, at least to Deacon, that for her moving on meant doing it on her own.

So it appeared it was time for him to move on as well.

* * *

Stacey was the first woman he'd had a real relationship with since Rayna. He'd rarely had to spend a night alone if he didn't want to, but he had avoided the women who wanted more than a one-and-done or weren't ok with being a short-term booty call. He couldn't imagine ever having the kind of relationship with another woman that he'd had with Rayna. And truth be told, even though as time went on it seemed less likely to happen, he was still waiting for Rayna to ditch Teddy.

Most of the women were those he met after a show or at an after-party. Although he was pretty sure Rayna didn't like to see it, she couldn't really say anything. She never asked about the other women. The only one he really regretted was Juliette Barnes. He knew Juliette was after him mostly to one-up Rayna and he also knew that hooking up with her hurt Rayna, more than any of the others. In the very beginning, he didn't care, but then it became clear to him that it didn't just piss her off, it hurt her. He got out of it before too long, not because of Juliette so much as because he hated seeing the pain on Rayna's face when she thought he wasn't looking. Because she'd been right when she'd said that about what writing songs led to.

When the rumors started about Teddy and another woman, he thought Rayna might finally be close to ditching him, but when it finally happened, he wasn't the one she turned to. So when Juliette had given him that dog for his birthday and he had taken him to the vet, there was Stacey.

Things happened fast, as they usually did, and he hadn't necessarily planned to see her again, but Cole convinced him to try harder this time. So he did. He liked Stacey. A lot. Things felt different with her than they had with anyone else. She was so different from Rayna. And not part of the music business, which was refreshing. She was a breath of fresh air in many ways, although her insecurity about Rayna bugged him. He had actually been able to move on in some ways because of Stacey. He was actually able to see himself building a new life with someone other than Rayna Jaymes.

He still had found it hard to tell Rayna that Stacey was his girlfriend. It felt awkward. It also hurt Stacey that he had not been as upfront with her about his relationship with Rayna. He tried to calm her fears, but as her insecurities grew, it caused him to wonder what he was doing. He fought it, because he felt like he needed to move on. Because Rayna was apparently moving on, without him. And then Rayna and Liam sang "Postcard from Mexico" at the Nashville show.

Standing alongside the stage with Stacey, he tried not to let it bother him, but there Rayna was, sexing it up with Liam, to _their_ song. He and Rayna had written a lot of songs together but somehow that one was special. Partly because they did a call-and-response format that wasn't typical for them, partly because they had written it while they were in Mexico on vacation, acting out a dirty little scenario with each other. And because that song, more than any other song they did, caused them to practically tear each other's clothes off when they got backstage. For that reason, it was usually their last encore. And now she was singing it with _him_.

He hadn't been able to stay and listen and he had left Stacey standing there. When she found him later, she had, correctly, pointed out to him that he was still hung up on Rayna. He had tried to be honest with her, but it was the worst thing he could have said to her. She left him there and then Rayna did as well, with Liam, advising him to make things right with Stacey. And he had nothing.

He had gone home, pissed at himself for wearing his heart on his sleeve, again. He couldn't get past Rayna, even though she clearly had gotten past him. And he'd screwed things up with Stacey, but, if he was honest, he knew that wasn't going to work anyway.

He sat in front of the TV, not really watching, trying to decompress. He was too wired to go to sleep. It was after one o'clock in the morning when the knock came at his door. When he'd opened it to find Rayna standing there, he'd been stunned. He could feel his heart beating loudly, unsure of why she was there, and not on a plane to St. Where-Ever-She-Was-Going with Liam. She'd looked a little nervous, a little unsure. He could scarcely breathe.

_I love you. That's just never not been true._ When she told him she loved him, had always loved him, his first instinct was to call her out on it, to protect himself. He'd waited for this for so long, but now that it was here, he was afraid it wasn't real. When she turned away, he realized he couldn't let her walk away from him again. _Hey_, he had called out to her. She turned back and was immediately in his arms.

* * *

Deacon sat on the bunk, his head leaning against the wall. He roughly rubbed the tears from his eyes. He'd thought that night was the beginning of a new era for the two of them. She'd been so happy, laying there in his bed. He had been too. And even though they still had little fits and starts over the next few months, everything felt right. But he'd had no idea that she was hiding the explosive secret about Maddie and that it was eating her up inside.

He knew in his soul that she still loved him. Even now. If she woke up, when she woke up, he knew she would still love him. Because he still loved her. In spite of it all.

He found himself praying again that she wouldn't die.

* * *

He was surprised when the guard opened his cell door and even more surprised when Megan appeared. What the hell was she doing here now? He sighed deeply.

_You're being released._ He wondered aloud if someone had posted his bail. It was pretty steep, so it couldn't have been Scarlett. Juliette, probably. Then she told him no, nobody posted bail, that someone had confirmed he wasn't driving the car. He had scoffed at her. _Who did that?_

When she said it was Rayna, that she was conscious, he felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. He felt tears in his eyes and he ran his hand over his mouth. He wanted to collapse to the floor on his knees and thank God. His heart felt like it would explode from the joy of it. _She's okay. Thank God, she's okay._ Megan told him she'd give him a minute to collect himself. So many thoughts and emotions ran through him. He went from sheer joy to a moment of prayer to a sigh of relief. And then he smiled. She was okay. He had never heard better news in his life.

* * *

He walked out of the jail and squinted against the bright sunlight. He found his sunglasses in his shirt pocket and slipped them on. He stood for a moment, just thinking about the fact that he was out of that orange jumpsuit, even though he was in the same clothes he'd come in with. Apparently they had washed them before giving them back, because the bloodstains were gone. He had not seen Megan again after she had explained the details of his release. A part of him was glad she had pressed for more information, but none of it would have mattered if Rayna hadn't woken up. _Rayna_. He remembered all the times when she would be waiting for him outside a jail. Usually looking pretty pissed off. Most of the time she wouldn't speak to him until they were almost home and then it was to ask him what in the hell he thought he was doing. He took a deep breath.

He saw her wave, tentatively, and smile, just as tentatively. Scarlett. He needed to apologize to her. He walked down the steps and over to her, where she was waiting by her car. She looked up at him and then she reached for him and pulled him into a hug. He let himself hug her back. She opened the car door for him and he slid into the passenger seat. They didn't speak on the drive home.

When he walked into his house, he noted the fact that it was cleaned up. He knew when he'd left that night to go to The Bluebird – so long ago now – that it was a wreck. He knew that Scarlett had moved in while he was in jail. She'd broken up with Gunnar apparently and moved out of the house they shared, even though she was the one who'd rented it. But she'd known he'd need someone to keep an eye on him, at least for a while, although he was embarrassed that she had to do that.

When he walked in the house, he'd been overcome by an incredible sadness. This had been his and Rayna's house, long before it had just been his house. They had rented the house for several years before they bought it. They actually had talked about their dream house – a house on the water, away from Nashville, a place where they could get away from the stresses of life. He had bought that house when he'd gotten out of rehab the first time, when Rayna was 21 and he was 24. He knew he wasn't supposed to do something like that, but he'd done it for her. He'd found the place, on a lake just over the border in Kentucky. The man who owned it was practically giving it away and it had been perfect. Just exactly what Rayna had always wanted.

He'd taken her there on the eve of her very first CMA nomination and win – for Best New Artist – and she had been entranced. She had scolded him, of course, for buying it – the rule after rehab was no big decisions – but she hadn't really been angry. Some of the best times they'd had had been at that cabin. But this house, this was their home. After she had won that first CMA award, her career took off, and finally they had money. So they bought this bungalow in East Nashville, in a transitional neighborhood, and made it their own.

He looked around the living room. His eyes lit on the coffee table. He felt tears in his eyes as he thought of all the times he and Rayna had sat on the floor by that coffee table and written songs. So many of their biggest hits had been written in this very house. If not on the living room floor, then in the bedroom. He thought back to her sitting here with him the night of the CMA nomination party, wearing only one of his shirts, singing with him. The night he'd quit Juliette Barnes' band. Rayna had been pushing him away that night, and he thought they were done before they'd really gotten started again, but he'd confronted her, and the love they had for each other had pushed away the doubts. Her doubts. He chewed his lip as he thought that probably the secret about Maddie was weighing heavily on her then.

He went in the kitchen, where Scarlett looked at him shyly and offered him a root beer. He gave her a tiny smile and took it. He thanked her for being there, for being there _for him_. And then he apologized for hurting her and she'd nodded and then given him a ghost of a smile. She surely didn't understand what his pain was and he wasn't ready to tell her either.

He looked around the kitchen. Neither he nor Rayna were much in the way of cooks. She liked take out, he liked canned stuff. Someone, he couldn't remember who now, had talked him into remodeling the kitchen a few years ago. So now it was all dark wood and stainless steel and granite countertops. All of which was really lost on him.

He went to his room and gingerly sat on the bed, holding his hand and laying down. On the bed he'd shared with Rayna. He'd never gotten rid of it. And although he knew it was impossible, he imagined he could still smell her in it. When she'd come back to him not so many months ago and they had made love in this bed that first time, he'd felt like they had come full circle. That they were _home_. Truly home. She'd come back after all those years and they finally could have what they'd always wanted. Each other. But it hadn't been meant to be.

She had left him many times over the years they were together. Always because of his drinking and what that led to. Sometimes it was just overnight, sometimes longer, but she'd always come back. But then she hadn't. He couldn't quite remember what it was that was the last straw for her, but he'd come home one day and as soon as he'd walked in the door he had felt the emptiness. It was as though the soul of the house was gone. He had wandered through the rooms and made note that all of her personal things were gone. The closet was mostly empty, the medicine cabinet in the bathroom had only his things in it. A few pictures were gone. Her guitar, the one she didn't play particularly well but treasured all the same, was gone. There was no note, no nothing. Just the emptiness. He had looked for a bottle of whiskey and noted the fact that she'd also gone around the house and found all the bottles he'd hidden from her and thrown them out. Except for the one out under the shed in back. He'd sat on the ground, leaning against the shed, drinking straight from the bottle, and cried.

She'd started dating Teddy then. He was still in her band, but she wouldn't talk to him, except about business. He drank more, because he missed her, because he was mad at her, because he didn't know what else to do. And he'd ended up in rehab – again – and wasn't sure exactly how that had happened. So he had left after three weeks and come home and then woken up in jail. Coleman had told him that he'd gone to Rayna's apartment and trashed it. He hadn't remembered.

She sent him to rehab one last time. The time that took. At least until the night of the CMA's.

* * *

He really wanted to see Rayna, but he was reluctant to go to the hospital. Teddy would be there. Lamar would be there. Tandy would be there. _Maddie would be there._ None of them would want to see him and he didn't really want to see them either. He didn't know what he would say to any of them, particularly Maddie. He sent flowers and a note, but he heard nothing from Rayna. He wasn't sure if that was because she hadn't gotten them or because she didn't want to talk to him.

Juliette was the one who told him when Rayna was released from the hospital. He wanted to call her, but at the same time he was waiting for her to contact him. He knew they needed to talk about what had happened, talk about Maddie, but he was also afraid. He wasn't sure what to do about Maddie or what she wanted from him with respect to Maddie. He felt confused, by the whole situation and by why Rayna was being so silent.

Scarlett had taken him to the specialist that Juliette recommended. She had given him all his options and none of them sounded particularly promising. What he kept hearing was that he would never play again. Hearing that gave him an empty feeling inside. If he didn't have music, what was left? It was all he knew. He told the doctor to put a cast on his hand to make it stop hurting. At this point, that was the best he could think to do. As he sat at home, all he could think about was never playing again. And Rayna. He needed to see her. He knew he didn't have any right to ask her for anything, but he needed to see her. He needed to talk to her.

They had driven past the crash site on the way to the doctor's office. The whole side of the road was covered with signs and flowers and other paraphernalia. He was shocked. Scarlett had told him it had been there since the accident. He'd had Scarlett take him back there later. After she drove off, he'd walked over, in the deepening dusk, to look at all the flowers and cards and stuffed animals that Rayna's fans had left. It was painful to look at all that, to see the desperate notes filled with anguish and the prayers of people who loved her from afar. His chest hurt thinking about how they could have died there, that Rayna could have died there. He didn't know what was ahead for them, but he had to find out. He didn't think he could wait any longer. So he called her and she agreed, a little reluctantly, to meet him. He didn't really know why, but he thought it was appropriate that they meet there, at the corner of Granny White Pike and Battlefield Drive, the last place they'd been together.

When he saw the car lights approach, he stood up. He watched Rayna get out of the car and slowly walk towards him. She still took his breath away. She was so beautiful. He was glad there were no scars, none visible anyway. He was sure she hurt inside just as much as he did.

He told her about his hand, about his fears that he wouldn't be able to play again. He told her that he knew he had no right to call her. _I don't want you to be the one, it's just…you always have been._ He wasn't sure exactly what he expected. They'd been through a lot in all the years they'd known each other and she'd almost always been there on the other side. He had to admit to himself that he'd been hoping they were going to work this out. But then she'd shattered it all when she'd said that bullshit about how she couldn't this time. _I don't think we can save each other. I think we each need to save ourselves now._

He'd just stood there, looking at her. He still loved her. All those times before, it had been enough. He'd thought about how many times she'd left him, how she'd broken up with him that last time, but it had never truly been final. But this, this seemed final. He'd stood there, with his heart breaking, trying not to let it show, wondering how he was _ever_ going to go on without her.

Then she reached towards him holding something between her thumb and index finger. _I sorta thought we might need this someday._ He took it from her and looked at it. A ring. Kind of a plain ring, a band. He looked back at her and her eyes seemed to say that it was something meaningful. Then she turned and walked back to the waiting car. He stood and watched them drive off and then looked back at the ring in his fingers. He noticed then that it had a design on it, hard to tell exactly what in the dark, but he had no idea what it meant. Clearly it was significant, that much he gathered from what she'd said and the fact that she'd given it to him. He wondered if it was a ring he had given to her, but it would obviously have been when he was having blackouts because it meant nothing to him. He thought hard for a moment, trying to bring some long distant memory to the forefront, but nothing came.

Whatever it was, it represented something that was over. He looked at it one last time, then tossed it in the middle of the pile of mementos on the street corner. Then he reached in his pocket and pulled out his phone. He scrolled down to Scarlett's name and pressed "Call". When she answered, he said, "Hey, I'm done. Can you come get me?"

**THE END**


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